malevolence; and that baby (who will presently be chastised with terrific
uproar) passes an infancy of intrepid enjoyment amidst the local perils,
and is no more affected by the engines and the cars than by so many
fretful hens with their attendant broods of chickens.

[Illustration: "That sweet young blonde, who arrives by most trains."]

When sometimes I long for the excitement and variety of travel, which, for
no merit of mine, I knew in other days, I reproach myself, and silence all
my repinings with some such question as, Where could you find more variety
or greater excitement than abounds in and near the Fitchburg Depot when a
train arrives? And to tell the truth, there is something very inspiring in
the fine eagerness with which all the passengers rise as soon as the
locomotive begins to slow, and huddle forward to the door, in their
impatience to get out; while the suppressed vehemence of the hackmen is
also thrilling in its way, not to mention the instant clamor of the
baggage-men as they read and repeat the numbers of the checks in strident
tones. It would be ever so interesting to depict all these people, but it
would require volumes for the work, and I reluctantly let them all pass
out without a word,--all but that sweet young blonde who arrives by most
trains, and who, putting up her eye-glass with a ravishing air,
bewitchingly peers round among the bearded faces, with little tender looks
of hope and trepidation, for the face which she wants, and which presently
bursts through the circle of strange visages. The owner of the face then
hurries forward to meet that sweet blonde, who gives him a little drooping
hand as if it were a delicate flower she laid in his; there is a brief
mutual hesitation long enough merely for an electrical thrill to run from
heart to heart through the clasping hands, and then he stoops toward her,
and distractingly kisses her. And I say that there is no law of conscience
or propriety worthy the name of law--barbarity, absurdity, call it rather--